Man and Sin Have the Same End
by Mind in the Ankh
Summary: When the crew find themselves stranded on a strange planet with no fuel, no engine, and no River, even shiny things aren't about to go smooth... Set between Ariel and the BDM, crossover with Tolkienverse.
1. Unwelcome Encounters

A/N: I own neither the crew of _Serenity_, who belong to Whedon and company, nor the that of the Vingilot (or any of the rest of Arda, for that matter).

* * *

Wash's voice crackled over the comm, causing a new flicker of concerned curiosity in the onlookers. "Zoe, honey… why are we talking with them?"

"Cap doesn't feel like fightin'," she responded, touching the comm button with her off hand. The other still firmly gripped her shotgun.

"Have we tried running?" her husband asked helpfully.

Zoe let her eyes drift over the mob, her mouth a thin, even line. "Don't think that'd do us much good right now."

"Last time I checked, Reavers weren't much for talking."

"These ain't Reavers." _They're worse_, she added unconsciously.

"So diplomacy wins the day, eh?"

"Long as we get our point across." Zoe pumped another round into the chamber. She wasn't sure she had enough. Even counting what they'd left back on the ship, she wasn't sure Jayne had enough. They'd have to bluster their way out of this one, but she and the captain had postured their way though worse odds. Not much worse odds, but at least she, Mal, and Janye were the only ones here carrying semi-automatic weaponry. "Gotta go, darlin'." She silenced the comm, hearing her husband's muffled Mandarin curses from memory as much from the comm itself.

"That's real sweet," Jayne said, sighting down his semi. "But you lovebirds are about to make us real dead, one o' these days."

"Let's just finish the job, Jayne." There was no rancor in her voice, but no room for teasing, either.

"You know, normally, you two ain't much for talking, either. Let's keep it to a tactical retreat right now, donh ma?" Mal cut in.

"Less talkin' 'n' more runnin' comin' right up." Jayne said, taking an equally measured step backward, sweeping the mob for anyone that looked to eager to start a fight. They did not precisely run, nor did they walk right in step, but the three backed away from the mob, using hand signs and the threat of the weapons to keep them from following. They only had to squeeze off a few more rounds into the armed, milling crowd to get their point across. It was not until they were very close to Serenity that the three dared turn their backs and run flat out. Cursing the tall grass that might hide a spy from them, Mal, Zoe and Jayne hurried up the ramp of the disabled ship.

* * *

They'd known they'd been rather low on fuel when the Alliance cruiser had come atop them. With a bit of creative piloting, Wash had managed to elude the fighters before they'd caused too much damage, but he'd managed to get himself lost in the process. With a leaking, battered engine and a hot cargo, Mal was understandably unhappy about this fact. They were out deep in the black, and there would be no running to one of their usual boltholes with the small amount of fuel they had left. So when Wash had found the planet more by accident than design, they limped over, hoping that it was a sign of a change in luck that for once would not be for the worse.

"What do we know about this place?" Mal asked, leaning over the dinosaur-strewn display.

"Nothin' on the Coretex," Zoe reported.

"Generally, I don't know much more than what you see on the screen," Wash admitted. "But it's got breathable atmo, decent gravity levels and no big city lights."

"You think they'll have a place to park? Kaylee's gonna have to shut her down and rebuild half the engine, if I understood her right. She's gonna need parts and fuel, Wash, and that can get mighty expensive."

"I think we'll find something down there." As the pilot spoke, the entire planet seemed to light up like a great blue and green jewel, backlit by a powerful lamp. The light slowly worked its way around, caressing the seas that sparkled beneath. At first, Mal was convinced that the planet was being orbited by a small sun, completely backwards to Earth-That-Was. The light coming from the satellite did not dim as it moved away from the main star's rays, leaving it to pulse and flicker with a light of its own. Wash fiddled with the controls, getting Serenity to visualize this minature star under a different spectrum.

"Some kind of ship," Zoe said, examining it closely. "Never seen one glow like that before, though."

"Never seen a boat designed like that before, either," Mal said, looking critically at the masts that held the solar panels. "Looks like somebody tried to get a boat off of Earth-That-Was and put her in the air without worrying about the open deck."

"That's closed over," Wash said. "Some plexiglass or something; can't tell quite what."

"Over the whole boat?" Mal asked.

"Near enough. She's giving off some signs of life; I even get what might be a skeleton crew on the bioscan."

"Well, if they can keep that thing in the air, they can probably trade us a little fuel, then," Mal said happily. Maybe things would go smooth for one day.

"Should we hail her, sir?" Zoe asked, indicating the glowing ship.

"Can we?" Mal asked. It was possible that this ship was not just glowing just to light up its course in orbit. The welcoming committee aboard might not feel quite friendly where a wounded smuggling ship was concerned. This might not be Alliance territory, but they weren't out of the woods yet.

Wash shook his head. "All the channels are silent, Mal. They're not saying anything to us, or letting us say anything to them. Guess we could go knock on their window and ask 'em to turn down the light, but it ain't happening over a wave."

"All right. We're goin' in and landing her, then, and then we'll find someone to talk to when we know what Serenity needs," Mal said. "Try not to park on any houses, Wash, but an ounce o' civilization wouldn't hurt."

"Right, sir." Wash guided Serenity past the glowing beacon, bringing her down to rest in a grassy plain. "There're a bunch of folks just south of here," the pilot said. "Though the scanners aren't working well enough for me to tell you who they are and what they're doing."

"Right. Wash, you get Book and Simon, and see what you all can help Kaylee with. Jayne, Zoe, and I'll go out and greet the neighbors." Mal said, checking his revolver and his rather lightweight coin purse. "We may be here a while, so we'd better get to know them."

"Should we take the ambassador?" Zoe asked.

"Nah, Inara'll be mad enough at me for putting her off schedule without draggin' her all over another backwater." Mal was not eager to explain to the Companion just how long they could potentially be stuck here.

* * *

He was considerably even less eager to inform the others after they had met the locals. They were filthy enough to be Reavers, certainly, and their grunts and howls seemed to promise as much harm to an unarmed man as a Reaver's might, but when Zoe's sawed-off shotgun went off, they backed down. They were smarter than Reavers. Maybe a little more cowardly, but some had called a few of his actions a bit cowardly, too.

Besides, there was something not quite right about those creatures. Under the grime and the scars and the deformations, they didn't quite look human. Mal had seen big men before, and Jayne was no delicate flower himself, but some of these bruisers had made Jayne look puny in comparison. Their teeth had been pointed, either with the help of a file, or more frighteningly, by nature itself. There was no single feature to them that clearly identified them as nonhuman, and, knowing what the human population might get up to on its own, Mal was reluctant to get voice to the fancy, but they definitely weren't quite right.

Leaving Zoe to catch up with her husband, who had been waiting at the hatch, Mal and Jayne wandered back towards the engine room in companionable silence, stewing in their private thoughts. Jayne stopped by the galley to grab a protien bar, bouncing the butt of his rifle against the counter. "Gonna need more," the big man mumbled to himself.

"If that thing goes off in my boat, you're gonna need a whole lot more of something," Mal snapped irritably.

Jayne grunted, tearing a chunk from the bar and chewing loudly. "Gonna go lift."

"Kaylee'll have plenty of things to lift," Mal said. "We need the engine fixed."

"Fine," Jayne said through another mouthful. "Long as we get away from those things. Ain't right." He unconsciously echoed the captain's thoughts.

"That's the plan," Mal replied, shepherding him aft. Too little of his life was currently going according to plan.

The engine room was a chaotic mess, now more so than usual. It seemed like every panel had either exploded in the blast or in the following diagnostics. The main drive sat still in its rotator, dripping a dark blue fluid. The smell of heavy engine oil and burned grease mixed with the more prosaic scents of old metal and Kaylee's favorite fruity perfume in the hot and muggy recycled air. "Now be careful with that!" the little mechanic said, rushing to help resettle the bulky piece that Simon struggled with. "Wouldn't want you to drop it on your foot after you volunteered to help." Her hands lingered on the metal perhaps a trifle longer than they needed to.

"If you'll just show me where to put it down, I'd be grateful." Simon tried to smile charmingly and unaffectedly through clenching teeth. Kaylee reconsidered the heavy object in the doctor's arms – Mal still wasn't sure what it did – and quickly redirected him to place it out of harm's way.

"I expect you've got a shopping list for us, mei mei," Mal said, following after Jayne and Book as they helped inventory the damage. "But I'm afraid the supply store is closed for the evenin'. How much do you think you can cobble back together outta what we got?"

"Won't be much, Cap'n," Kaylee said sadly. "They hit my girl pretty hard back there. I got the main and secondary life support running, so we don't have to worry none about our air, and the lights and 'tricity should be good -" Kaylee cut herself off when the cabin lights flickered briefly in time with the dull thump that echoed through the floor as Jayne and Book set down yet another piece of heavy equipment. "At least for a few days. I don't think I can get her to fly yet, though."

"See what you can do," Mal said. This definitely did not look good.

As usual, when the captain's luck decided to go sour, it didn't go by half measures. "Kaylee?" Inara's voice emerged from just beyond the engine room. "Is River back there with you?" Behind him, the captain heard something clang against the deck.

"When did you last see her, Inara?" Simon asked, moving around Mal. He was limping slightly, the captain noticed. The Core boy had done more than his fair share of the work. Mal wondered who Simon was trying to impress.

"She'd been staying in my shuttle, watching out the window. She's been a bit nervous today."

"Today'd make anybody jumpy," Kaylee said, trying to keep the group calm. "She's probably just hiding someplace she feels safest," the mechanic said optimistically.

"Someplace none of us know about," Mal grumbled. Letting Simon's crazy little madgirl sister on the loose had not been part of the plan. "Is your shuttle still there, at least, Inara?"

"Nothing out of place save River," Inara replied. "I went to get more tea out of the cabin and she was gone by the time I got back."

"Well, then, let's find her," Mal said, motioning a disraught Simon along with him and Inara. "Can't be too many hidey holes we don't know yet."

"She is still on the ship, is she not?" Book's cultured voice asked from behind them.

"She gorram well better be," Mal said, stalking off in search of the missing girl.


	2. Hide and Seek

A/N: Not my 'verses, not my characters, ah, Eru, not even my gods. I'm trying to do right by Book, but I don't know if the lady doth preach too much...

* * *

River had been visibly twitchy since the Alliance cruiser came in sight. "The hawk is stooping, and the nest's too far away," she murmured to herself.

Simon hugged her, trying to keep his sister reassured and quiet. "It'll be okay. We've had closer calls, haven't we?" he said, offering a shaky smile. River didn't look up.

It was about then that Wash came over the intercom, informing them to hold onto something. Serenity jerked and vibrated, flying roughly as the engine smoked from the missile. It had been a glancing blow, Kaylee had informed them later, but on an old ship with no spaceworthy weaponry and a small budget for replacement parts, a glancing blow could be enough.

The flight never exactly steadied, but eventually River became confident enough to walk around their quarters, or at least nervous enough that the threat of being thrown into a wall didn't scare her. She never exactly paced; her movements were too randomized to be couched in such terms. Still, Simon recognized the restless energy within her; Lord knew he'd felt the same often enough in this little room. "Let's go see what happened," he suggested, opening the sliding door. River followed wordlessly behind him, humming tunelessly to herself.

Their first stop was the infirmary, although River dug her heels in firmly at the doorway. Simon couldn't blame her; after all the other jolts and fears, the last thing his sister needed was reawakened memories of much more terrifying laboratories. Finding his equipment more or less in the same order he'd left it, Simon hurried back out, not wanting River to get bored or nervous with waiting on him and wandering off. From there, Simon was undecided about whether to head first towards the engines, where he was most likely to find Kaylee, but also would most likely just be in the way at this point, or straight to the mess hall, where he would probably find everyone else save Wash, Zoe, and Mal. River saved him the trouble, heading straight for the kitchen-cum-conference room, where to his limited surprise, Jayne sat cleaning his knives and Shepherd Book sat across from him, one hand upon the small black bible.

"Seem to have found ourselves in a spot of trouble," the preacher observed.

"No kiddin'." Jayne did not look up from the weaponry spread out before him. The big man picked up a particularly jagged knife, examining its shine critically. "Alliance is gettin' gorram obssessed with these two," he said, waving the knife vaguely in the Tam siblings' direction.

"I'm sorry," Simon said with false innocence. "Are we interfering with your smuggling operations again?"

"Ruttin' well are," Jayne said, never turning from the knife in his hand.

"Oh, good. I thought it might have gotten into your thievery by mistake." Simon continued to needle him.

Book motioned for quiet. "All of us here have done things we cannot be proud of. That doesn't mean we can't show a little kindness to each other."

"Doesn't mean I can't stab him, either," Jayne grumbled, but he made no further comment when River and Simon moved to sit at the table.

"Do you know what we'll do next?" Simon asked, turning towards Book, though it was Jayne that answered.

"Either we blow up an' don't hafta deal with you, or we get to ground and shoot some of those huen dan. Either way, sounds like a win," Jayne concluded with a smile, picking up another knife.

"We just have to trust in the captain and whatever higher power might be listening," Book said. "Considering what we've been through so far, I think we've got an ear. He just has a strange sense of humor."

"Verse laughs and cries all at once," River observed, not looking up from the table. "The laughter's getting familiar." Jayne ignored her, but the Shepherd offered a light smile.

"As long as we can laugh along with it," Book said.

From the galley, the landing had not felt too rough. It wasn't Wash's best, but all the chairs were still upright and no further from the table than they had been since the Tams had arrived. Save, of course, Jayne's. The big merc was on his feet; knives strapped and stowed away in multiple locations upon his person, as soon as the creak of the turning secondary engines alerted them that they were about to land. With but a grunted parting to the preacher, Jayne headed towards the bridge. He would be needed upon landing. With any luck, Simon's services would not be.

The doctor's thoughts wandered back to the engine room. Kaylee still hadn't made contact with them. Perhaps this shouldn't come as a surprise; the girl was obsessive about her engine, and if it was giving her and Wash any trouble, the mechanic would be too busy to even think of making contact. But if the engine had taken a hit, it was all too possible that Kaylee had, too…

"Stay here, River." Simon put a hand to his little sister's shoulder. As far as he knew, River got on as well with Book as she did with anyone else on this ship, and Simon trusted the preacher to keep an eye on her, if need be. "I'd better go check to make sure everyone's all right," he said, rising and heading towards the opposite end of the mess hall.

"She'll make it," River said. "She's still flying."

"I hope so," Simon said, though in truth, he wasn't sure whom River was talking about. The ship had been still for several minutes.

The engine room, Simon discovered upon his arrival, was the exception. He heard the mechanic before he saw her. "Come on, girl, just a little more..." Kaylee murmured to the ship. Stepping carefully around a fizzling panel, Simon found a pair of sturdy workbooks and fancifully embroidered coveralls sticking out from beneath the main shaft.

"Kaylee?" he asked cautiously, not wishing to startle her. "Are you all right?"

"Just a little rattled, but I'll be just shiny with you around," she said, sliding out from under. "Serenity may need a little doctorin', though. Can you hand me that wrench?" She pointed out a tool. Simon fetched and carried, losing himself for as long as he could in Kaylee's welcome, bubbly voice and the somewhat confusing task of repairs.

The doctor did not immediately notice Shepherd Book's arrival, nor did he stop to wonder where his sister might have gotten to until Inara joined Kaylee's irregular squad of assisstants in the engine room. Simon trusted the Shepherd and the Companion more than he did most of the others with his sister, but he knew that River was often a handful, under the best of circumstances. Simon felt a flash of guilt for leaving her. Had he stayed with River, she would not have been able to wander off on her own.

Or at least, so Simon might hope. If he had not gone back to the engine room, he might have been so distracted with worry for Kaylee that River might still have passed him by. There was not much point to these second-guesses, Simon was willing to admit, but they kept his mind occupied while they searched the ship for his little sister. He did not want to think about what might have happened to the damaged girl if she had snuck out of the ship on a hostile alien world.

* * *

River sniffed the air. She could not smell it, but she could nearly feel it on her skin: a dark, suffocating sensation that clung to her no matter where she went or how fast she moved. Like a fog of sleep after she had pushed herself to her limits, it weighed heavily upon her eyelids, taunting her with the inevitable nightmares to come. One could either give in to that terrifying stillness or go mad resisting it. It threatened to take one over either way, in the end. It was all right, though, River decided. She was already mad.

From the direction of the ship, she heard the rustle of the tall grass and the calls of her companions. That wasn't right. She would need Simon out here eventually, but first she would have to prepare him for this deadly peaceful air. River turned her mind toward Simon, brushing his whirring thoughts. He was confused, a little angry, and very worried. Good. That ought to keep his head clear for now. She decided to explore further and then head back to the ship before they could meet up with her. River didn't want Simon or Kaylee to lose their edge out in this. Taking a deep breath and feeling it stick to her lungs, River turned and scurried off. She thought she heard hoofbeats in the distance.

* * *

"She's not here," Simon said desperately, pulling out of the crawlspace. "We've already checked the passenger dorms, the infirmary, the galley, the bridge, the engine room, both shuttles- "

"Yeah, I looked there, too," Mal said tiredly, cutting him off. "Don't you worry none, doc. We'll find her. Though if she's left my boat I ain't holdin' myself accountable fo her condition," the captain grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"There's nowhere else on the ship that she could be, is there?" Book questioned. The group had spread out during the intitial search, but as more and more of Serenity was found empty, the crew drifted back together towards the cargo bay and the door. It was shut now, but how long had Wash stood by the open door, awaiting Zoe, Mal, and Jayne? How long had it taken the intial three explorers to leave, and how long had the ramp stayed down afterwards? For his part, Book did not ever remember hearing the creak of the old airlock between the time Mal and company had left and when they had returned. Had it been open the entire time to whatever dangers might await them out on the uncharted planet?

Book was not the type to fear the unknown; he had seen too many things in this 'Verse for it to surprise him too much anymore. And even when things did get strange, the Shepherd trusted that the Lord might work in mysterious ways, but He did generally have a good reason for doing so. Book would just have to try to be open to whatever line of reasoning that might be.

However, the Shepherd believed that there was a serious difference between leaving oneself open to God's will and leaving oneself needlessly open to danger. Certainly, they had tested the atmosphere from orbit and again from the ground, but there were more things a body might be concerned with than oxygen levels. The Shepherd had gotten enough first-hand experience with more than a few of these. Having been in the engine room, however, he could not be certain that the doors had never shut, so he would not make unfair assumptions before he knew all the facts. River was perfectly capable of opening the doors on her own, as well, after all.

"Could she have doubled back on us?" Kaylee added, turning toward the door.

"She'd have to be fast," Zoe said, coming down the staircase with her husband close behind. "We been through most of the ship at once."

"Well, she is pretty fast, from what I've seen of her," Wash said. "And I hope she's smart enough to avoid Reavers, or whatever those things were out there." He shot Mal a quick, furious look. Hoban Washburn knew where his wife's loyalties lay, but he didn't always like them. Book did his best to provide the pilot with a sympathetic ear, but for all his usual talkativeness, Wash kept his mouth shut when Zoe was out of the ship. The pilot prefered to stare at the comm and wavescreen or fiddle with his model dinosaurs than hold anything resembling a serious conversation when he was in that state of worry. The preacher couldn't say he blamed Wash. Under pressure, Book wasn't much for idle chitchat, either.

The captain ran his hand across his face. "Let's try one more time," Mal said. "Then we check around the outside. Grab your weapons, just in case," he said to his crewmembers. Wash nodded; the lines of his jaw never quite relaxing. Simon and Kaylee looked nervous, but still hopeful. Most of the others wore unreadable expressions. It was possible, Book supposed, that their second sweep would find the missing girl, but he was not willing to stake a month of kitchen duties on it.

"Got Vera already," Jayne said, patting the rifle at his side. "Wouldn't mind getting' a few grenades 'n' such, though. Never know what sorta trouble you'll get into with Crazy involved."

"Don't think we need the heavy calvary just yet, Jayne," Mal replied, moving back towards the bridge.

"Aw, you ruin all the fun," the big mercenary complained. Book suspected that it was mostly for show. If Jayne truly didn't care about River, he would still be arguing that it would be just as well if she had run off. The big man was not reluctant to air his opinion, no matter how cruel or heartless it might seem to the rest of the crew.

Mal chose not to dignify that statement with a response. Jayne grunted, adjusted his duster, and jerked his head toward Book. "Let's do the gorram bunks again," he said. "I'll take one end, you start in the other."

"And if you happen to linger over your field supplies, I'll meet you in your domitory?" Book asked teasingly.

"Gotta make sure Crazy didn't take none of my stuff," Jayne replied defensively.

The Shepherd smiled. Between the mentally ill seventeen-year-old and the thirtysomething weapons fanatic, it was sometimes difficult to decide who was the most childish. That was all right with Book, though. In the eyes of God, were they not all children?

"I'll be seein' ya, Shepherd," Jayne called. Book answered him in fashion. Right now, this child had one hell of a game of hide-and-seek to win.


	3. Hidden in the Grass

A/N: Tolkien owns the planet, Joss owns the crew, and I own nothing, as is obvious by the way the flagit plotbunnies never listen to me...

* * *

The mind was strange, as foreign to her as those of cattle. It was not so simple, but its words were equally otherworldly, impossible for her to understand. She dug deeper, reading the subconscious images, examining the alien phrases for tone and visceral meaning. She would no be able to speak with this one yet, but perhaps River might communicate her desires. She risked a step closer. 

"Mama! Mama! There's a stranger with the horses!" Those were perhaps not the exact words, but she read them easily enough. Dismissing the distraction, River turned back towards the strange being with large dark eyes and pale gray hair. She was close enough to touch, though she dared not reach out quite yet. Almost, she could know him now…

The alien nickered, shying away. River watched as he restlessly stamped a hoof, his pearlescent shoulders quivering with tensing muscle and his ears flickering to catch the sounds of her voice. "You know what you are," River whispered to him. "Not a horse." The being dipped its long head as if in acknowledgement of her statement, then wheeled around, cantering away from her. "Mearh," River repeated softly, smiling to herself. Her face still held its beatific smile as she turned to face the spear.

* * *

"You call us in if she turns up," Mal directed, waving the rest of the search party on. Zoe nodded, her eyes flickering briefly between the captain and her husband as she stood in the open hatch. 

"Hang on, Cap; I'm comin' too!" Kaylee rushed down the ramp from behind the first mate after them.

"Not this time, mei mei." Malcolm said, softening his tone. "Ain't some border town out there, an' those are dangerous enough at times. 'Sides, the engine ain't gonna fix itself."

"It'll hold 'til we get River back," Kaylee said firmly, straightening her leather jacket. "Can't do much more without parts, anyway."

"Need you here, Kaylee," Mal insisted, his voice lowering.

"I want ta make sure she's all right. Hate to think of what could happen to her all alone out there…" the little mechanic trailed off.

"I hate to think of what could happen to you, either, Kaylee," Simon said shyly, glancing between the woman framed by the hatchway and the tallgrass waving in the wind. The mechanic flushed, though her jaw was still set.

"Put a bunch of men on an uncharted planet and suddenly even the Rim pirates want to act like knights in shining armor." Inara adjusted her shawl as she approached the ramp, fixing Mal, Simon, Wash, and Jayne with a faintly amused expression. "I don't know if I ought to appreciate this or not."

"Don't get used to it." There was hint of laughter in Zoe's eyes, though the first mate's expression was still deadpan. "They'll be back to normal once they've had a chance to slay a dragon and rescue the princess."

"Still, wouldn't hurt to have someone with a little sense around in case they do find River," Inara said smoothly.

"Reckon the two of us and Book can hold down the ship, sir," Zoe agreed. "It wouldn't hurt River to see another friendly face."

"All right." Mal gave in to the three staring women. "But you stay close, lil' Kaylee."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n!" the mechanic said, rushing down the ramp. Offering her a light half-smile, Wash boosted her up on the back of the ATV across from Simon and nodded to his wife before starting the motor, touching the brim of his cap.

"Thing's gettin' too big. Mule was only meant to hold three, anyway," Mal muttered to himself, stalking along in the wake of the ATV, with Jayne fanning out into the grass on its other side. "Gorram crew… it's like herdin' a buncha cats."

* * *

To be honest, Jayne still didn't know why they were doing this. Well, he knew they were looking for the doctor's mooncalf crazy little sister because otherwise the doc would go crazy on them, too. The mercenary had to admit that having a trained medical professional on the ship could be handy at times, but he wasn't so fond of his ears that he could say without any uncertainty that it was best to have Simon and River on the crew. 

So why was _he_ out here? Because Mal wanted him out, mostly, and Mal paid the shares. At least, that was what Jayne told himself. The off chance that he might be able to introduce a few more of the toad-humping creepy natives to Vera didn't discourage Jayne, either. Getting River back? Well, Jayne figured, there was shooting a bastard in the face, and then there was making him have to deal with Crazy. Jayne wasn't _that _mean. And if anyone ought to be able to hurt that little nut, it ought to be him, gorramit. Jayne Cobb didn't leave torture that he'd be more than happy to dish out himself to some know-nothing cowardly Reavers or feng le teenage girls, no matter how much they might deserve each other.

"See anything?" Mal called to the mercenary. They were falling behind the Mule, but Wash would bring it back around in a minute. It was just as well the old ATV was out of range. Without the whining putter of the motor, Jayne could hear the chirps of insects in the rustling grass. As the smell of gasoline wafted off in the distance, the more natural odors of mixed plant life, horse manuer, and a hint of rain to come came in its place.

"Grass, go se, an' more gorram grass," Jayne summarized for his employer. Mal sighed in frustration. "Could be worse," Jayne continued cheerfully. "Could be seein' a whole mess of trampled grass where somebody left a trail leadin' right back to our ship."

This caused the captain to swear volubly. "Wash! Get everybody off that infernal machine, right now!"

Jayne fought a grin as the pilot circled back towards them, his face a study in confused hurt. God, but this was the kind of stuff Jayne lived for. "What's the matter, Mal?"

Mal pointed to the tire tracks behind the Mule. "That's what's the matter. That goin' straight back to Serenity is a problem."

Wash and his passengers considered the tracks behind them, then Wash, too, motioned Kaylee and Simon off the ATV. "You guys go ahead. I'll see what I can do to confuse the trail." The pilot's pale knuckles twitched on the handlebars.

"Ain't safe for you to be alone out here," Kaylee said, putting a hand on his arm.

"Don't worry, if I run into any Reavers and can't talk them out of mauling me, I'll run 'em over with the Mule," Wash assured her.

"She's right, you know," Mal said. He looked around the group, as if considering sending another of them back with the pilot. Jayne hoped it wouldn't be him. If he'd already resigned himself to grunt work, he might as well have a little success to show for his efforts. "Jayne?" Mal asked inevitably.

"You want us to leave you out here with Reavers and a pair o' folk who don't know which end o' the gun to hold?" Jayne crossed his arms in front of him, but then shrugged apologetically as the mechanic caught his eye. "No offense, Kaylee."

"We all have our specialties," she said. "Simon 'n' me are just better at patchin' things up than tearin' 'em apart." She put a reassuring arm around the doctor, who flushed at her contact. Really, the Core boy could be such a girl at times, Jayne decided. If the fancy-trained doc had any sort of sense, he would've realized by now that Kaylee wanted him as much as Simon wanted her. According to Kaylee, he actually had gotten the message and decided not to act on it anyway. The whole gorram family was feng le, in Jayne's opinion.

"Mal, I don't think we've got time for this," Wash said stonily.

"We don't," the captain agreed. "Jayne, get." He motioned to the Mule. Jayne got, though he grumbled a bit as Wash revved the engine. "Meet you back at the ship," Mal said, ignoring the merc.

"Man's goin' nuts. Don't need any big damn heroes out in the wild," Jayne muttered, watching the winding trails form in the grass behind them.

"God, I hope not," Wash said in fervent agreement. The Mule rumbled over a hidden pit in the grass, jolting both men.

"Jus' keep your eyes on the road," Jayne said, checking his weapons. He'd keep his own sharp for speed bumps.

* * *

"This way," Mal directed his two remaining followers. "Keep quiet, now." 

"Do you actually have any clue as to where we're going?" Simon hissed. "Or you just decided on a whim?"

"Someplace we might have a chance of findin' your sister alive," Mal snapped in return.

"Easy now," Kaylee said, distress evident in her voice. "No need to start fightin' each other out here." The mechanic touched the pistol at her side uneasily. Both she and Simon had borrowed weapons from Jayne, much to the mercenary's disgust, but Kaylee had not felt much better about it.

"Don't know which end of the gun to hold," Jayne had said, and although Kaylee had watched him and Mal and Zoe use them often enough in the black, and had even held her own pa's shotgun once as a girl, she really couldn't say the big merc was that far off the mark. Growing up on the Rim during the tail end of the War, Kaylee had seen too many battle wounds to treat guns like anything but what they were: tools of certain destruction. A gun alone probably wasn't going to hurt anyone, but even in the most innocent or well-meaning hands…

_"Don't touch the trigger 'less you have to," Jayne had told her, fitting her shaky fingers around the handle with his own larger, steadier hand. "Keep your mitts away from the hammer 'n' the chamber, if you don't have any fingers you don't wanna lose. An' keep yer right arm straight; Coral don't have nearly as much kick as Bessie, but she'll knock you good in the eye if you don't hold her still." Kaylee had nodded, pretending that she was picking up any of the mercenary's last-minute shooting lesson. Simon had looked confident enough, holding his borrowed pistol with ease, if not skill, but Kaylee was not afraid to admit that the weapon at her side scared her more than it comforted._

"So where exactly are we going?" Simon whispered, his voice mellowing somewhat in concession to Kaylee's words. "I thought Jayne was your tracker, though I don't know if he's much better at that than he is at public relations."

"Can't track your sister," Mal admitted, "But there are more tracks here than the Mule's." The captain motioned them over towards a small outcrop of rock, one of the few nearby natural landmarks in the sea of grass. Kaylee scrambled up. From the higher elevation, the petite mechanic could more easily tell what the captain was talking about: just beyond the edge of the territory they had explored, the grass was flattened, as if it had been trampled under many feet.

"What kinda boat leaves that kinda trail?" Kaylee asked. She knew her way around more than a few types of big ships, but the randomized swathes of flattened grass were too irregular even for a first time pilot practicing touch-and-gos in some oversized cargo carrier.

"No ship; just lotsa feet," Mal summarized.

The doctor scrambled up beside her, trying to get a better idea of what they were talking about. His warm prescence at her side was reassuring in a way that no cold bit of metal, galvanized plastic, and powder could ever be."But –that much land… You'd have to get an army…" Simon trailed off. Mal just nodded.

"But who are they? Where're they goin"?" Kaylee asked.

"I might have a notion," the captain muttered darkly.


	4. A New Target

A/N: Joss is boss, and Tolkien's the master.

* * *

"Hey, honey! We're home!" Wash called as they approached the ship. 

"Where's the captain?" Zoe asked, kissing her husband as he slid from the Mule.

"They're not back yet?" Jayne asked surprisedly, dismounting as well. "Would've thought they couldn't've taken any longer to run in circles than we did. Doc musta kept 'em searchin' under every blade o' grass out there."

"You left Mal, Kaylee, and Simon out there by themselves?" Zoe said, a hint of incredulousness breaking out from beneath her usually stoic calm.

"Didn't particularly want to," Jayne grumbled, checking his weapon once more. "He sent us back with the Mule. They got my guns out there."

"As long as we know what we left behind," Wash said with gentle sarcasm, holding onto Zoe. He wasn't particularly pleased about having to leave the others alone, but he was certainly glad to come back to his ship and his wife and find them in no worse shape than he'd left them.

"And how to get 'em back in one place," Zoe insisted. "Don't wanna get any more separated than we already are. Dunno why Mal wanted all the civvies off the boat, but he should still be wearin' his comm, right?" she continued, ever practical.

Wash looked questioningly towards Jayne, who shrugged. "Right," the merc said. As far as they knew Mal would try to keep in touch, but he had been acting strangely since their arrival, he probably wouldn't much like an unwarranted interruption, and the old comms were known to be a mite touchy at times…

"Next time we go out with guns blazing, can we maybe put a bit of thought into which direction we're charging in?" Wash asked, forestalling any further questions.

"Get to it soon as we call the captain," his wife assured him. She touched the boxy black comm at her hip, tuning it in to Mal's usual frequency. "Mal? Everything all right, sir?"

"Just shiny," the sarcastic voice crackled to life after just slightly too long a delay.

"You don't sound shiny," Zoe said. "And it sure ain't shiny to get two back when I expected six."

"We'll get there," Mal reassured her. "Just haven't found River yet. In the meantime, see what you can do to make Serenity look solid 'n' unappetizing. I'd prefer her invisible, but ominious'll do in a pinch."

"Sir," Zoe said, obviously not sure what to make of her captain's mystifying comment.

"Mal sent us to do evasive manuvers," Wash broke in. "The Mule's tracks led right back to the ship."

"'Cause you're good at haulin' your pi gu halfway 'round the planet whenever there's a hint o' danger," Jayne said, pushing the ATV further into the cargo bay.

Wash raised an eyebrow at the larger man, even though he knew full well that he couldn't intimidate Jayne. "That so? 'Cause I kinda remember hauling my pi gu around to your side of the planet in order to pull you out of said danger."

Zoe flattened her mouth, warning the arguing men to either shut up or ship out. "You got three hours before we come out with guns blazin', and then I ain't getting too concerned with coverin' my tracks."

"All right, Zoe," Mal said, and then the buzzing comm went silent once more.

"But did he tell you where he's headed? Of course not!" Wash complained.

"I can find him if I have to," his wife assured him. "'Til then, let's get a few of those rocks into a defensible formation around the hatch and see how much grass you've flattened." Her back stiffened and her step a parade-ground march, Zoe walked out of the shuttle. Wash followed behind, motioning for Jayne to turn the Mule around for one more job.

* * *

"We don't fire 'til they head our way. Don't need to draw more attention than what we get. They get too close too fast, we head up the ramp and close the airlock." Zoe stalked about the impromptu bulwark surronding the back of the ship. The rocks were still spaced too far apart for her liking, but it wasn't like they could add another layer of metal to the charred and dented hull. Not quickly enough without Kaylee, at least… 

"Yeah, yeah," Jayne muttered, waving her away. "We been over this. Ain't like none of us have never seen a fight before."

"Hopefully, we won't see one today." Book, too, had borrowed one of Jayne's guns. Unlike Kaylee and Simon, he had not required much advice concerning its handling.

"Depends on the alternatives, preacher," Zoe said quietly. The weight of the pump-action shotgun rested assuringly against her hip, and her husband's eyes flickered between her and the horizon. Wash had changed out of his favorite Aloha-print; he said that he didn't want to get it dirty in the crossfire. The first mate wasn't quite sure she entirely believed her husband. Zoe thought he looked much more dashing in the vest, and Wash knew it. While the pilot usually didn't concern himself overmuch with his appearance, he would occasionally do a little something if he thought Zoe needed impressing. That wasn't as often as he thought, but she appreciated the effort. "We ain't got no business with these folk," she continued, turning the last word into a curse. "And I got no intentions of starting any. If they want to make trouble, we aim for their knees. They still want trouble, Jayne and I aim for heads."

"And I'll try not to throw off your aim too much when I drag you desperately back towards the ship," Wash added. Her husband wasn't truly a bad shot, but in a panic, his aim was not much better than Simon's. When it came down to a gunfight, Zoe knew Wash was more concerned with not getting hit than hitting his target. That suited her just fine. Zoe wasn't too keen on seeing her husband hurt, either.

She readied her shotgun. The creatures – whatever they were – were still out of range, but they wouldn't be so for long. Already Zoe could see the light reflecting off their mismash of leather and steel armor. It wasn't polished by any stretch of the imagination, but with that much smooth metal something was bound to reflect. Seemed strange that there wasn't a kevlar or teflon piece amongst the lot of them, but no stranger than their lack of lasers, sonics, and mechanized projectiles. Once she'd silenced the inner corpral about the lack of weapons discipline, Zoe wouldn't complain.

The horde got closer. By this point she could make out some of the features on the forerunners. She could've done without another sight of those tusk-like teeth or overmuscled hunching shoulders. "C'n I start shootin' now?" Jayne's finger twitched upon the trigger of his sniper rifle.

Zoe held up a hand, forestalling him just a little longer. The army might still just go around the ship. Maybe. And maybe Wash could get Serenity, as she was, off the ground to find her missing captain, mechanic, doctor, and little lost feng le. Not too gorram likely, but the first mate hadn't given up hope quite yet.

The first of the horde reached a distance about twice the length of the bulwarks away. Zoe dropped her hand, and the remaining crew started shooting.

* * *

Inara ducked behind the solid airlock doorframe, feeling the clang of the arrow against Serenity's dented hull as much as she heard it. Wood and pig iron might not be as accurate or immediately deadly as a .30 caliber bullet, but the larger projectiles were dangerous enough. Leaving as little of her form exposed as she could, Inara leaned forward and returned fire.

The Companion had never feared death and battle, but she always had felt herself better at other forms of conflict resolution than she was with violence. Unfortunately, there had not been much opportunity to try for an alternate means of negotiation with these people.

Inara did not precisely blame Mal for this fact. After all, Jayne was hardly the most diplomatic man she had ever met, either. And Zoe didn't ask too many questions if her captian's negotiations started to head south. Still, Malcolm Reynolds should have known. Inara did not know precisely what had happened, but either these beings were the most tempermental Inara had ever encountered by a long shot, or Mal had… been Mal, basically.

There would be time to be piqued with him later. First Inara would have to attempt to smoothe over this disaster, and to do that, she'd have to live through this.

"Watch your head!" The Companion eased back into position in time to see Wash shove Book out of the way of another arrow. It hit the dirt but a few inches from the shaken men. Book's expression flickered for a moment before he returned fire, but the pilot continued to flinch, opening his round blue eyes just enough to place the muzzle of his weapon over the rock he crouched behind. "Are they falling back yet?" Wash asked after firing another burst.

"Afraid not," the preacher answered, calmly considering his next target. "Perhaps it's time to retreat."

There was a click from Jayne's machine gun, the rifle having been discarded as soon as the magazine had emptied. "We're runnin' out, Zoe," the mercenary reluctantly agreed. "Mal wouldn't let me buy any grenades last trip."

Zoe nodded, never turning her head. "Get in, boys. Inara, shut the hatch."

"Once you're all in," Inara replied stubbornly, letting off a shot of her own bow. Zoe continued to fire until Wash grabbed her arm, pulling her suddenly enough to throw off her aim.

"Hold it!" she said, making pilot, Companion, and preacher turn back around. "They're leaving." Indeed, there were no more arrows fired in their direction. Instead, the main group abandoned their dead, retracing their steps to go first west of the grounded Firefly, and then run to the south. It was the scattered few heading vaguely north that made Inara uneasy.

Jayne smiled. "We scared 'em off."

"Maybe for now," Zoe allowed, turning to face the rest of the crew. "But maybe they just found a better target."

* * *

"I don't like this one. Nearly dark enough to be a Dunlending and wandering alone amongst the horses…" The old woman leaned against the old spear, frowning at her daughter-in-law and their strange visitor. 

"The poor girl has lost her family. Is it any wonder she seems touched in the head? And she's no darker than some of the Gondorian born; we're close enough to the border that brown hair shouldn't surprise you, Grandmother." The younger woman wrapped a cloak comfortingly about River's shoulders, and the girl smiled her thanks.

"Had a cousin who married into a Gondorian family. Wasn't rich, but safer there. Steward sees as much as the eye; the king's clouding over," River read, glancing up at the sky.

The matriarch motioned her grandson back, as if afraid that the madness might be spreading. "Treasonous," she muttered.

River placed a finger against the center of her forehead, covering the barely visible scar. "They didn't touch his brain. Not with solids. Clouds will pass," she attempted to reassure the elder woman. "Basic meteorology."

The elder women glanced briefly at the clear sky and exchanged looks. "Her clothing is awfully strange, too," the grandmother pointed out as if she hadn't heard.

"You're grasping at straws," her daughter-in-law replied. "Let's get the poor girl fed and then we'll see if we can get something sensible out of either of you. Come along, Sigmund." The boy followed trustingly in his mother's wake, with his grandparent still guarding him the best she could with the ancient spear-cum-walking stick. River gave him a wink.

"He'll come back. He knows you give them carrots," she whispered.

The young boy glanced towards his granmother before leaning in towards her. "The Mearh?" Sigmund whispered back. River nodded and the boy's face lit up. "Maybe someday he'll let me ride him."

The future stabbed suddenly into her brain with a clarity that her present rarely possessed, and River looked away, flinching in terror.


End file.
